Promiscuous
by Raachuu
Summary: Matt is a prostitute. Mello is the bad cop. When the wild blonde goes hooker hunting, he meets Matt with intention on arresting him. But when he takes it too far like he always does, he realizes there's something much more to Matt than meets the eye.
1. Hunt

**New story! And for those of you who are reading this that are waiting around for Struck (if you're still around by now XDD) I am seriously stuck on that story. It makes me frustrated and I have no ideas… Any ideas just P.M. me it'd be appreciated so much!**

** ANYWAYS. About this new story. Uhm.. it came to me from beginning to end all at once, and I've been thinking about it nonstop. So it's time to write again! **

** This story has prostitution and lots of sex and violence and blah blah nonsense, it's rated M for a reason!**

** There is gay sex, and even a little straight sex in this story, as we look at Mello's side who hunts whores, and Matt who IS a whore! So if hetero stuff pisses you off, know it's not the main idea, and only lasts for a couple of vague paragraphs. It's nothing too graphic. **

** Umumumm… so yeah! Enjoy! ^-^ **

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><p><strong>Mello's POV<strong>

"Shut UP, NEAR!" I screamed scooping up a little toy train car and heaving it at him. But in my anger, it missed the dickhole's giant head and crashed into a computer monitor.

"Mello," Near smirked, "Calm down. I'm just asking you a favor. But I guess even you can't follow simple directions."

He thinks he's so fucking high and mighty. He's calling _me_ an idiot! I growled and lunged at him. The two of us rolled around on the floor for a bit, wrestling and yelling at each other.

I had the tiny faggot locked in a chokehold when Rester and Lidner came running in, "MELLO!"

Lidner yanked out her gun and Rester pulled me off of Near , heaving me on my back. I felt the wind rush out of my lungs and I lied there, immobile. I felt like a turtle while I rested on the floor, struggling to catch my breath.

"Mello," Lidner snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Near called me an idiot," I snarled from my spot on the cold blue tile. It was true. Not directly, but yeah, Near called me an idiot. I could see it in his stupid eyes. He still thought of me as number two. And I was going to change that… by strangling him.

"I just wanted him to go patrol the prostitution circuit," Near whined, swapping his persona to cute and innocent just for Rester and Lidner. But I knew the truth. He was an arrogant little asshole.

"And Mello," Lidner said as I helped myself up, her voice patronizing, the dumb broad, "You can't do that for Near?"

"They aren't little kids, Halle," Rester grumbled, "We just wanted to know what was going on."

"Yeah but when they get together they act like children."

"That's Near," I spat through my teeth, "I'm the adult."

Near snorted, "You are not."

"I am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Not."

"I'm leaving," I stalked out of the room.

I punched the elevator door and stepped inside, leaning on the wall as I waited for the elevator to take me down. I didn't necessarily want to go down to the prostitution circuit, especially on orders from Near. Plus, someone of my superior status shouldn't have to go do that job; it was for the regular cops. I thought I was above hunting hookers. Maybe Near thinks that I'm just as low as the prostitutes are and that I would be perfect for the job. _That bastard!_

The elevator stopped and the doors swooshed open, I was about to step out when I realized I wasn't to the first floor yet. A woman with a very hideous looking baby strapped to her back stepped into the small claustrophobic elevator.

"Good evening!" She chirped.

I grunted in response and pulled out a chocolate bar, sinking my teeth in for the first bite, tasting the sweet candy. Ahh chocolate, life's pleasure.

"Ohh chocolate!" The lady cackled, her chins jiggled merrily, "Look, Tyrone! He has chocolate!" She tried to swivel around and look at the infant on her back, as if awaiting an answer. The kid of course said nothing.

Wait… she named her Caucasian baby Tyrone?

Naming your white child Tyrone is the most reprehensible thing you could do as a mother.

"How are you this evening, sir?" She wondered aloud.

I smirked and ignored her. Then the first floor came and the doors opened once more, I brushed past the woman and her kid and walked into the building's gigantic lobby.

I looked for my little black BMW z8. In any other case I would use my cycle, but you can't pick up a whore on a motorcycle. I mean, you could, but it's irritating.

I shoved the key into the ignition and drove off towards the south side of the prostitution district downtown.

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><p><strong>Matt's POV<strong>

I took a long, long drag on my much needed cigarette as I listened to Leanne babble about her boring ass day.

Leanne was a tall, gaunt looking woman. She was only ten years my senior, 30, even though she appeared to be much, much older. She was here long before I was, and was the one to eagerly show me the ropes on our corner. Teaching me everything I knew from getting big tips, to the proper pole-dancing technique. She was like the mother I never had.

"So anyways, " The loquacious woman droned, "Casey is being an asshole again." Her bony fingers reached up to brush the bruise that was under her eye.

"So that's where you got that from. He's an asshole," I said, referring to her harsh, strict pimp. I reached up and pulled her hand away, poking the bruise with a leather clad finger.

My outfit for the streets today was a leather and spandex police suit. My pants were leather, as well as my gloves, and my shirt stretched tightly across my chest in spandex material. It was an early start for the night, but I was a little surprised no one had picked me up already.

Leanne winced, but straightened up as a beat up car came to a stop next to our corner, the tinted window rolled down revealing a nervous, chubby older woman.

She smirked, "Looks like this one is yours!"

I walked over and smiled my best business smile, "Hey, cutie," I winked, "How are you doing tonight?"

"I-I… what do you charge?" She avoided looking me in the eye.

I trailed a finger down her dusty car, "I don't do oral, but a good sexy time with me for an hour is $150, every hour you add fifty bucks. To do me is extra." Way fucking extra. I wasn't letting anyone near my ass without good pay. So far no one had.

Of course she was a woman, but in a business like this, you get some crazy customers.

"N-No I don't want to do you. G-get in?"

"Money, honey" I demanded sweetly. Asking for pay before you fucked was something Leanne had taught me. I used to think it wasn't a big deal, but she kept repeating herself. So I figured she'd had some sort of past experience involving a fuck and run without pay.

She paused, then handed me two hundred dollars.

I flashed her a warm smile, hoping to ease her anxiousness, "Thank you," I pulled open the passenger door and climbed in, not bothering with the safety belts.

"I-I uhm.. hah. Oh God… I have a hotel room about twenty minutes from here," She drummed the wheel nervously, not budging the car.

I stared out at Leanne who was primping her curly bright unnaturally red hair, "That's fine, babe." I could just simply fuck her in the backseat, but if she wanted to waste her time on driving, it's her money. Saves me energy, anyways.

I looked over as the woman shuddered silently, digging her teeth into her cracked white lips. She'd actually be attractive if she weren't so chubby and shaky looking. I wonder if she's some sort of addict.

For about ten minutes the car ride was completely silent. Every so often, the lady would glance in my direction, perhaps to make sure I was still there.

"You're… you're very handsome," She said after a few glances.

I chuckled, "Thanks."

"A-Are you… gentle?"

Jesus Christ. This woman really _has_ never done this before. Didn't she at least see any fucking movies with street whores in them? Movies don't teach people much about the real world, they exaggerate a lot. But you would expect a customer, whether first time or not, to know that the whore does whatever _you_ want to do.

I wanted very badly to explain all that to her, but went with, "I'll do whatever your little heart desires."

Her plump jittery hand snaked over in the darkness of the car and grabbed my hand. I enveloped her hand in mine and gave a reassuring squeeze.

Augh. First timers. I hated when they got like this; all nervous and jittery. It was just a fucking nuisance.

Ten minutes later, we arrived at a giant grandiose hotel. It was a tall well lit building with luscious flowers blooming everywhere. I went inside with her for my first fuck of the night.

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><p><strong>Mello's POV<strong>

I pulled into the south side of the district, and spotted my first prey of the night, an older looking redheaded woman.

I let the car come to a complete stop at the corner and she noticed me immediately.

I rolled the window down and she stepped off the curb to greet me, "Hi, sweet- oh myy… You're a handsome fella, aren't you?"

I smirked, "Good evening, ma'am. How much do you charge for oral?"

"Twenty for a blow job," She said without any traces hesitation.

That's a pretty good deal, "Get in," I barked.

"Money," Her chirpy mood was gone in a flash, and her haggard face was gravely serious.

"Fine," I forked over a twenty.

She slid into the car silently, and shut the door behind her. When she got in, the car was filled with her scent, thick cigarette smoke. She turned to stare at me with small beady brown eyes, "Not right here."

I snorted, "Of course," I smoothly did a three-point turn and drove to the back of the building at the next corner, "So what's your name, lady?"

She smiled, pink painted lips pulling back to reveal yellowing teeth, back in happy business, "Well, handsome! I'm Leanne!"

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><p><strong>Okayyy. So don't hate me for not getting Mello and Matt together in one swoop. I wanted to drag this story out just a bit. I don't want it to go too fast. T-T<strong>

** Anyways, review? =D Anything is nice, but criticism is what I've been looking for lately. So if you're up for that, I'd gladly accept advice! ^-^**


	2. Challenges

**Hey guys! Thanks so much for your reviews! I really appreciate it. I'm sorry this chapter is so late, I've been getting a little writer's block and this chapter is a little choppy because I ended up writing like a paragraph once a week or something.**

**WARNING. This chapter has Mello x Matt smexes. Okay, you're probably wondering why I'm telling you that. So I've asked a lot of girls who like MxM which one they prefer... I have yet to meet a girl who prefers Mello x Matt. Having said that, I'm sure a few people who read this probably like Matt x Mello. I'm really sorry if you don't like seme Mello but that's the whole story. D; Just yell at me and read a better fanfiction!**

**Also, I'm not used to writing much sexy scenes, so if this sounds a little strange, all critiques are greatly appreciated! :D  
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><p><strong>Mello's POV<strong>

Leanne sucked cock like she was born with one in her fucking mouth. She made me come in no greater than five measly minutes. I _almost_ felt bad about what I was going to do next.

As she was lifting her head from my now flaccid member, I pulled out my gun and lazily pressed it to her temple. She froze, half sitting up, half leaning over my lap.

"Hold still, I'm a cop. You're under arrest... blah blah..." I droned monotonously, having done this many times before.

Leanne hissed, and I chuckled, grabbing her crimson hair with my free hand and dragging her head back. I shoved her back to her seat and swiftly locked the car before she could open the door and escape.

"Keep quiet. Not a peep. I'm gonna drop you off at the station. Try anything funny," I nudged her with the barrel of my gun, "And you'll find a bullet lodged in your fucking brain."

"Fine," She snarled, staring straight out the window and holding herself as still as a board.

I smirked and after lacing up my pants, drove all the way to the police station one-handed.

**Matt's POV**

I was incredibly thankful that my client had a smoke hotel room. While she went to go take a shower, I lit up my cigarette. I puffed on the filter and let the smoke slowly curl out of my mouth. When I got extremely bored, I would often let the smoke drift out of my nostrils, so I could pretend I was a dragon or something. I play too many damn video games... Don't judge me.

I was resting, now fully clothed, on the only bed in the hotel room waiting for my customer. Usually, I would just get up and leave as soon as it was over, but my client told me to wait for her and she would drive me back, which was pretty cool of her, because now I wouldn't have to waste my hard earned money on a cab.

The room she was staying in was pretty nice. Apart from the underlying smell of smoke that other people left behind, it was a decent little place. The wall paper was a soft mind-numbing yellow with intricate red and gold designs weaving along it. The king-sized bed was a deep red and gold, with two fluffy pillows and a convenient padded headboard.

Almost right when my first cigarette burned out, my cell phone buzzed violently in my pocket. There were only two people who could get a hold of my work cell, Leanne and my manager, Zack. I took a swift peek at the caller I.D. and pressed the touch screen, indicating the phone to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Matt," Zack said, his usually calm voice sounded urgent and rough, "Where the fuck you at?"

"I'm with a fucking client," I snapped, "What's wrong?"

"How long you been with that client?"

"I dunno. It's almost been two hours. She's going to take me back, don't worry." I was a bit confused; Zack usually doesn't get this worked up.

"That girl you share your corner with-"

"Leanne?"

"Yeah, lemme finish. Anyways, you know where she is?"

What's he getting at? "Last time I saw her she was at our usual corner, Orchid and 9th."

"Where is she now?" He demanded.

"I don't know. What's going on?"

"Okay, well, her man Casey be getting on my ass, wondering where the fuck Leanne is. She's not answering her damn cell phone, it's goin' straight to voicemail. Dude be tellin' me that it's 'not normal'."

I think Zack is the blackest dude I have ever met. And he's white, "She's probably just with a client." I had no concern over what Leanne was doing. She was a responsible woman who could take care of herself. Fuck, the old lady carried a gun in her purse.

"Hold up. Casey wanna talk to you."

Fuck.

"Matt?" A deep bass rumbled in my ears. You could practically see the massive 6'5 black man looming over my tiny manager, "Did you see Leanne this evenin'?"

I sighed. I hated talking to or being around Casey. He was an ignorant, pig-fucking douche bag who mistreated all of his girls and acted like his size made him a king or something. It didn't. Just because he was a giant, didn't mean his brain was too. I hated him and wanted him dead. Nevertheless, "Yeah, I did."

My client came waddling out of the shower wrapped up in a fluffy green bathrobe, she saw me on the phone and smiled. She picked her way over to her suitcase and started choosing clothes.

"Well, what was she doin'?"

"Uhh, standing at her fucking corner? Listen, man, a client came to pick me up at seven, Leanne arrived at her post like thirty minutes before, so I was only with her a bit. I don't babysit Leanne."

"AYY, you ain't gotta get no fuckin' attitude with me, you little slut," I could feel the anger vibrating out of his lips and into my speakers, "All I'm trynna do, is find Leanne. She ain't answerin' her fuckin' phone and I figured you might know somethin'."

I held back a laugh, "Well I don't. Bye," I hung up and beamed at my client.

She blushed and asked, "You ready to go?"

"Mhm," I stood up and we left.

**Mello's POV**

I arrived at the station with Leanne flailing behind me, using her long frizzy hair as a convenient handle. I got some funny looks from the cops on duty as I stepped in with the skank in tow.

"Who goes hooker hunting anymore?" A familiar officer, Gerald Jackson, simpered. He had smug expression on his round, pudgy face.

"Shut the fuck up, Jackson," I heaved the woman onto the floor and snatched up her purse, tossing it on the counter, "N just wanted me out, so he sent me down to this wonderful side of town."

Jackson frowned, "Ahh. Yeah, man, uptown is drowning in snobby rich people who think their I.Q. is actually worth something."

"Yes! And lucky, lucky moronic imbeciles get to play Police Officer down here in the ghetto," I spun on my leather heel and stalked out of the station, leaving Jackson to fume by himself. Let him, I hated the bastard.

I climbed into my car and decided to go back to where I discovered Leanne, so I could work from where I began.

When I got back to Orchid and 9th, I noticed that there was already another hooker at the _same exact corner _where Leanne had been standing. Fucking really? These things were like flies; they never stopped coming. This one was a bit different than what I was used to. Rank and tasteless whores are what I usually get when I hunt, but this... creature was an entirely different story.

He was stunning, in every sense of the word. When I rolled down the window, beckoning him to come closer, I was even more dazzled by his appearance. Warm, smiling green eyes met mine as he bent down to greet me.

"Hi, handsome," His voice was just a seductive purr, thick and low. He flashed a white-toothed smile, "Looking for some fun?"

I snickered, "Mmm... maybe."

Behind those warm eyes, I could see the cockiness slither through those orbs like a snake. He was hot and he knew it. The bastard.

"Why don't you get in?" I leaned back in my seat and watched him cross his arms.

"Money?"

Wow. I wonder why all these hookers demand money immediately, "Can I get a freebie?"

He stepped back, gesturing at his body, "You think I'm fucking free?"

"Cocky one," I muttered, "Alright, how much do you charge?"

His voice turned robotic as he stated his prices, "Don't do oral. A good and sexy time for an hour is one-fifty. Every hour add fifty bucks. Do me and it's extra."

Extra, huh? "How much extra?"

He froze, all traces of arrogance leaking out of his eyes, "I..." He mumbled incoherently for a few moments before coming up with a price, "Like, six hundred."

He just made that up on the spot, "Okay. Get in," I challenged.

He laughed nervously, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip before nibbling on it, "I... uh..."

I reached over and opened the door for him, "Come on," I coaxed, fanning myself with six green bills.

He climbed in and I handed him his money. Apparently, he got his confidence back, because he ignored the seat belt, and leaned for the radio. I pulled off the curb and decided to drive to my nearby motel room about five minutes from here.

I knocked his hand away, "Not in the mood for music now, kid."

"Fine," He backed off, turning to gaze out the window.

"So, what's your name?" I spoke with genuine interest. He sort of seemed like an OK guy.

"Matt," He answered shortly.

"I'm Mello," I claimed, glancing at him.

He dared a peek at me, I could see him in my peripheral vision, see the little dip in his head as he appraised me. He made a little sound of approval in the back of is throat.

"So why are you dressed up as a cop, Matt?" I thought it seemed a bit ironic considering who he hopped in the car with.

"Dunno," His shoulders lifted and dropped.

"It's cute."

He clicked his teeth, probably in discomfort or anger or both. Either way, he wasn't happy with what I said.

I ignored him the rest of the car ride, not bothering to coax any more conversation out of him. It's a waste of time to beat a dead horse, and it would be a waste of time to try to talk to one too.

In about five minutes I pulled into a lowly-lit parking lot of a crappy little Motel in the middle of the downtown area. The little shit hole looked like it could have once been a cute place in the past, but the pink paint was faded and dirty. There was a place by the check-in lobby where there must have been a garden, but was now filled with dirt, gravel, and prickly brown weeds.

I had already checked in and led Matt to my room. I pulled out the key card to the door labeled 12 and shoved it inside those little slots above the door handle. I waited around for the little light to flash green, but no light came. I pulled out the card and pushed it in again.

Still no light. I tried a few more times, but to no avail, the door wouldn't let me in.

I hissed under my breath, hunched over the doorknob.

"Something wrong?" Matt asked, his tone was curiously indifferent.

"The door won't open," I nudged the door with the toe of my boot.

"Not my problem," He chuckled.

"It will be your problem when I get my 600 bucks back."

"No refunds," He snapped.

"You can say that to my gun," I answered sweetly.

"You could say it to mine."

I glanced over my shoulder to see him gripping his fake little police officer belt, staring down at me with a smirk playing over his lips. I straightened up to my full height so I could look him square in the eye. We were actually around the same height, give or take an inch.

His eyebrows did a quirky little dance behind his auburn bangs, provoking a staring contest.

Challenge accepted.

A person stepping out of their motel room broke our concentration, and we turned at the same time to see a small dark-skinned woman blink at us curiously before strutting to her car.

I turned back to him, "I didn't think whores had such personality," I said, referring to his over-confident behavior.

"Believe it or not, we're human," He retorted sarcastically, leaning closer to me.

My heart fluttered at his sudden closeness, peering into the depths of his warm green eyes. I thought he was going to kiss me, but felt disappointed and utterly foolish to learn that he was just reaching for my key card.

"How did you even get in here before?" He flipped the card over and pushed it in the little slot, opening the door.

"I didn't," I hadn't even bothered to get in the room.

The room was crappy. It smelled heavily of smoke. The wallpaper was yellowing and peeling, and there was a giant gross stain on every available surface. Matt winced and muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

I inhaled loudly, "Ahh. This makes me so horny."

Matt barked up a dry laugh, but said nothing.

I turned on him, a sweet smile on my lips, but the redhead had a blank expression. His normally deep emerald eyes now were empty and lifeless.

I frowned, "What?"

He shrugged, "Let's get this over with."

Wow, "Uh... okay," I muttered.

We stood in the center of the room in silence, our hands stiffly at our sides. Matt shifted his weight from one foot to the other, while I chewed on my bottom lip. Now, I'm not one for awkward silences, but this was absolutely suffocating. You could shoot a giant hole in this damn awkwardness.

"Well," I said, breaking the quietness, striding over to him, "Let's get this over with."

He was frigid and unresponsive as I trailed my hands down his torso and gripped his narrow hips. I kissed him roughly at first, but let myself relax, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction out of him. Within a minute or so, I eventually felt a hand entangle itself in my hair, and another hand resting on my cheek. A pair of dead lips came to life, and Matt was finally kissing back.

After a few moments of making out in the middle of the room, I pulled away to look at him. With a glossy little string of saliva still connecting us, I rested my forehead on his and stared at him, chuckling. He gazed back steadily, waiting for me to make the next move.

Challenge accepted.

**Matt's POV**

I don't like to brag, but I deserve a pat on the back for snagging a customer of _this_ stature. He was smooth, sexy, apparently filthy rich, and a talented kisser. Did I mention he was sexy?

I was, and still am, a bit hesitant towards him, because of what was going to happen tonight. All of my previous customers are cheap losers and would rather spend money on crack than waste six-hundred bucks just to do me. So uh… yes, in a way, I'm a virgin.

Mello's teeth tugging on my tongue broke my train of thought and I let out a little mewl of delight. I twisted and fingered his silky golden tresses, latching myself onto him and refusing to let go. His hot wet tongue strongly tasted of rich delicious chocolate and worked wonders in my mouth.

I always thought that the whole 'fireworks exploding kiss' thing was a load of bullshit sold in crappy romance movies, but there were really no other words to describe how this experience felt. Mello was fucking hot and I was fucking speechless. Speechless, because it felt incredible, that and I couldn't speak because Mello was inhaling my tongue at the moment.

Mello broke away from our heated smooch only to push me onto the bed. If I wasn't so occupied I would have complained about the rock-hard mattress. Right now, there were other rock-hard things that I was more worried about.

There was a low chuckle from Mello's spot above as he let his jacket slump to the floor by his feet, followed by his boots, socks and then the brown quilted vest, revealing a muscular torso.

"What are you so smiley about?" Mello smirked, leaning over to nip at my collarbone.

I sighed dreamily and wrapped my arms around his neck, enjoying the spine tingling sensations he was giving me.

Mello's warm breath tickling my ear was soft and airy. But as things got more heated, our breathing became slow, heavy and harmonious. I was enjoying all the attention right up until the last piece of clothing was shed. My boxers were tugged down and my erection bobbed free. Mello gazed down and weird look passed over his face. I stopped breathing.

His lips pressed together in a thin line as he stared hard at my southern region. What? What the hell was he staring at? Did my dick turn blue or something?

I was about to say something, but as I opened my mouth to speak Mello started howling with laughter.

I scowled, "What."

Mello, still laughing, swatted at me like I was a punching bag and then gripped me, "Nice. Very nice."

"What the fuck were you laughing at?"

"Cute dick, man," He chuckled, rubbing the sensitive flesh he was holding, causing me to squirm.

Oh. Now I knew what he was laughing at, because about ninety-percent of my clients got some amusement out of my dick too, "Fuck you," I said with venom.

He sighed lightly, slowly coming down from his laughing fit, "Sorry, Matt, I just don't see dudes with dick piercings anymore," He was still grinning.

"Yeah well, my boss told me to get it; my clients like it."

"I love it," He purred, lowering his head and gave a slow, long lick before devouring me.

My hands immediately flung to his head, twisting and yanking on his hair. I've been given head before, but nothing ever this passionate. Mello nearly swallowed me whole, humming and moaning as he did his thing. His tongue was more magical than ever as it swirled and poked the little silver ring at the tip of my cock. He seemed very interested in the piercing and took his time fondling it.

My breathing became loud and ragged, my heart hammered against my skull as I grit my teeth, "I'm gonna... I'm-"

Mello violently yanked his head away, smirking at my exasperated scream.

"Come _on_!" I whined, reaching down to finish the job myself.

"No," Mello grabbed my wrist and tossed it away.

Feeling utterly irritated and incomplete, I flopped hopelessly back on the stiff mattress.

Mello drew back and started to unlace his leather pants. Once he freed himself he searched his jacket pocket for something. He pulled out a condom and, grinning arrogantly, rolled it on his impressive… well…

He leaned forward and ran his hands along my naked chest, one hand traveled downward, and the other hand fondled my nipples, plucking and pinching the sensitive flesh there. Distracted by this touch, I didn't notice where the blonde's other hand had gone until I felt something poking where it didn't belong.

I gazed up at Mello to see him studying me, his eyes flickering over my face as he pushed his finger inside. I flinched, but not out of pain. Mello seemed to understand this and slipped in another finger. There was a slight pain with the second finger, but it faded almost instantaneously, and was replaced by an odd feeling. Mello gave no time for me to get used to this funny sensation, because he soon added the third finger.

I hissed as the pain seared and Mello snorted.

"I knew you were an ass virgin," At this, as if to prove his point, he stretched and wriggled his fingers, causing me to squirm in discomfort. Mello laughed.

"Just get it over with," I growled through my clenched teeth. This guy is such a bastard!

"Right," He chuckled.

The fingers slipped out suddenly, leaving behind a void-like sensation. That vacancy wasn't left open for long, because almost immediately, the fingers were violently replaced by something much larger.

Someone was screaming. It was a resonating, high-pitched sort of wail, and it was me. Mello let out a long guttural moan and clawed at my hips, trying to get a good hold of something.

"You're so tight," He growled, his once silky smooth voice was now husky and strident.

I too busy dealing with the sharp pain in my ass to answer, because Mello wasn't giving me any time to adjust. He jerkily rocked back and forth, unable to find any sort of rhythm, but as I started to loosen up, his uneven thrusts became a smooth, fluid roll of the hips.

The pain was slowly subsiding, and I found myself moving with him. My hips rose to meet his every thrust, and soon we found our own methodical pace.

Though as things neared the end, Mello went back to his original jerky beat and his growling moans had turned into amusingly girlish whines. His face was growing a soft pink and his hands squeezed tight on my waist. I could feel him nearing his climax as he seemed to swell from inside.

He abruptly stopped and his eyes fluttered closed. I stared at him, growing captivated as I watched his whole body turn rigid and as his brow furrowed. His whole body suddenly went limp and one of his arms buckled and he lost balance and toppled onto the bed beside me.

The whole fascination with Mello having an orgasm was soon forgotten as I remembered my own abandoned member. I stole a glance at Mello beside me, who was laying face-down on the mattress, and decided to take care my own business.


	3. Addictions

**I'm not that excited about this chapter. But thank you to those who reviewed! You guys make me so happy. ;3  
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><p><strong>Mello's POV<strong>

I awoke with a start this morning. Normally people wake up slowly and take their precious time rolling around in their soft, warm bed waiting for sleep to release its tight, loving grip on them. Today I woke up as if I were coming out of an exorcism. I sat up and wildly looked about the unfamiliar room.

Then last night's events rushed back.

Matt. I was surprised I didn't get to arrest him. I was surprised that I didn't care. I glanced at the clock and saw it was only seven. I flopped back down on the hard mattress and nestled back down in the stained sheets, smelling last night's fun in them, a mingle of leather, cigarettes, and sex.

The night was definitely worth those big six bills. To relive the night would have been priceless.

* * *

><p><strong>Matt's POV<strong>

Though today was my day off from work, my manager called me in so we could talk. Apparently, Casey was right to worry about Leanne, because she was finally found early this morning. In jail.

Admittedly, I was fucking shocked. I didn't think cops went after prostitutes anymore. They were like Pokemon, _'gotta catch them all!'_ my ass. There were far too many to catch them all, so why bother. Though I was even more shocked when Leanne described the cop.

"He was blond," She began, "And had blue eyes. And he had a scar on one half of his face. But he was a beauty," She sighed dreamily, ignoring Casey's snort of disgust.

"What kinda mother fuckin' pig would look like that?" He growled.

"You find out that man's name?" Zack asked, sidling away from Casey's towering form.

Leanne shook her head, frizzy red mane moving with her, "No."

I didn't know if I should have spoken up about Mello or not, but I felt the instinct to keep quiet. He didn't arrest me. I was damn thankful.

"Alright," I said, standing up from the red leather chair in Zack's little office, "It's my day off. I'm going home. See you tomorrow."

Zack nodded, "Later."

"You let your damn hoes leave just like that?" Casey demanded, blocking my way out.

Zack and I exchanged looks. Zack was a miniature 5'2 and deathly afraid of me. I was not one of those flexible little girls that other pimps toy with, and he knew that. I call Zack my manager because the little bastard just managed my money. He did nothing more than be my bank account and book me at clubs.

Zack laughed nervously at my all-knowing smirk, "Man, me and Matt is cool."

Casey shook his large fat head in disbelief, "You is a sorry ass pimp."

My grin widened at Zack and he flinched, "Nah, nah, dude. He still my... hoe," He flinched again, "But me and Matt got respect for each other. We bros, right Matt?"

I ignored him. Zack was trying for the impossible. He always tried to be everyone's friend. He wanted to seem like a worthy pimp, but he also wanted to be on my good side. He was not my 'bro'. He was a fucking punk. But his connections always kept me around.

I stepped past Casey and left the office, already yearning for my bed and Xbox.

I climbed in my beloved red Chevelle and drove straight home.

When I arrived in my apartment I ordered a pizza and hopped right in the shower.

I love my days off. I was the kind of guy that just enjoys staying home and doing absolutely nothing but play video games and eat pizza. And yet you'd wonder why someone as introverted as me would choose the life of a busy prostitute.

Well, everyone needs a job. And fuck, if it weren't illegal and frowned upon, I think everyone would do it; the hours and pay were amazing.

I worked every other night for eight hours. Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. Monday and Sunday were street nights, Wednesday and Friday were strip-club nights. That was 32 hours a week. In the average night I could make about 800 bucks, for a lucky night I could reel in about 2,000.

God, I was a lucky, lucky man.

I thoroughly scrubbed every inch of my body over and over again until my skin felt raw, the satisfying, clean sort of raw. Once I felt pleased with the condition of my hair and body I stepped out of the shower, tossing a towel over my head. I padded, dripping wet, to the small kitchen and fixed myself up with an ice-cold beer.

I carried my beer into the living room and lowered myself to the floor. If I weren't soaking wet, I would have chosen the couch, but the soft carpeted floor was just as nice. I groaned in pain as I laid down, suddenly realizing how sore my ass really was. That Mello had really done a number on me... I wonder what he was doing right now anyway...

I guess I had dozed off, because I found myself being awoken by the loud annoying buzz of my doorbell.

"JUST LEAVE IT OUTSIDE," I hollered, crawling over to the door and stuffing a twenty in the bottom crack, "KEEP THE CHANGE."

"THANK YOU, SIR," A man's voice called back. I waited until his footsteps faded down the hall before cracking open the door and pulling the pizza inside.

I sat back, pulling the hot pizza on my lap, grinning like crazy. I was fucking ecstatic. Pizza showered with pepperoni and jalapenos. This is life's greatest pleasure. I left the pizza box on the glass coffee table and went to the bedroom to wiggle into some clean boxers. I sprinted into the living room and vaulted over the black leather couch.

I grabbed my Xbox controller and turned on the Xbox. I was in a COD mood, but Halo was in the console and I was far too lazy to go change games. So I settled for Reach.

I flicked open the pizza box and carefully selected a large slice of pizza, glistening with grease. It was so beautiful. I took a bite. My day has begun.

* * *

><p><strong>Mello's POV<strong>

"So, we just have to go visit the scene and take pictures for Near. That's all," Lidner smiled, it wasn't a happy smile. She knew just as much as I did that Near didn't even give a shit about this case.

"Near's fucking retarded," I snapped, drumming my fingers impatiently on the window, I was tired and angry. After hooker hunting all night, Near had thought it would be cool for me to work during the day too. I was being fueled on only five hours of sleep, and for someone who didn't get his coffee this morning, that was not good enough.

Halle shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"Can we run by Tom Thumb?" I asked, pointing at the sign as we neared the convenient store.

Halle flipped on her blinker which was her idea of a yes.

I stepped out and bent down to lean in the car, picking out a few quarters in the little coin tray, "Want anything?"

"Can you get me a-"

I slammed the car door shut. I thought she would have said no thank you, so I decided last minute that that was a rhetorical question... turns out you don't get to answer those.

I strode into Tom Thumb and headed straight for the coffee section.

As I was fixing my coffee a large black man loomed into my peripheral vision. I glanced to my right to see him filling a cup with Sprite. He looked down at me without interest before turning his attention back to the soda machine. I shrugged it off and turned to face him, grabbing a coffee lid.

His head whipped around and he stared at me in shock, eyes wide with fury.

"What."

His nostrils flared wider, flashing a disgusting crust-cavern inside his nose.

Leanne rounded the corner of the candy aisle and froze.

"This him, Leanne?" The man growled, his voice was one of those deep, stereotypical black radio men voices.

She shook her head wildly, "No," She wheezed without hesitation, "No."

"This man fit the pig you described. Looks juss' like him," The large man cracked his beefy knuckles.

Pig? Me? Naw, "Do you have a bone to pick with me, sir?" I spat out the 'sir' violently.

"Casey, that's not him! The scar was smaller and wasn't a burn scar! Please, can we go? We're attracting attention!"

She didn't want me to get in trouble with her pimp. How sweet. Teehee... "What's wrong with my scar?" I said, self-consciously brushing my scar with my free hand, eyes wide, confused, and innocent.

"No! Nothing! I'm sorry, my boyfriend thought he recognized you!" She laughed nervously, "Casey! Can we go."

Casey turned and smashed his way past her, and like a wild rampaging gorilla, left the convenient store.

Leanne's innocent, nervous little smile was wiped off her face instantly. She glared at me, "Watch your back, you fucking pig."

I just simply smirked at her.

She spun around swiftly on her oversized flip flops and marched out of the store.

I snatched up my coffee and headed for the register, scooping up a couple chocolate bars on my way there. I could live off of coffee and chocolate. Sue me.

I climbed back in the car and Halle drove us to Near's stupid little crime scene thing.

* * *

><p><strong>Matt's POV<strong>

My cell rang for the seventh time today. It was my work cell, but I still didn't want to answer it.

I answered it anyways, "Hello?"

"Matt! Finally! Where you been?"

"I'm at my house. Enjoying my day off. What do you want, Zack?" I demanded, after what happened early this morning with him, I wasn't feeling very open and friendly.

"I just wanted to remind you that you have club duty at Mick's tomorrow night. It's Freaky Friday. Mick said he wants y'all in mowhawks and stuff. Y'know some freaky shit."

Augh, Freaky Friday? Mick was running out of ideas. Though the mowhawks were a neat idea, "I'll be there."

"Man, niggah, I know you gonna be there. You ever let me down?"

"Stop. Don't call me that," I groaned, referring to Zack's annoying word choice of the term 'niggah'.

"Sorry, man. Aight, well I'll be seein' you," He hung up.

I tossed my phone back on the couch and put back on the Xbox mic. I greeted my Live party and went to play Matchmaking.

*/*/*/*

"Oh, it's Matt! That's my boy! That's my boy!" Shaunee squealed and threw her arms around me.

This was how I was greeted when I entered Mick's Devils early on Friday night.

One of the regular Devils, Shaunee, was already there and setting up things for the busy night ahead.

Shaunee was a tiny black woman who had a sweet, inncocent face, but scratch the surface and you'll find a vicious, obnoxious attitude. She dances only at Mick's and disagrees with the whole prostitution line of work. Even though she was a very, very loyal customer to Leanne.

"How's Leanne?" She asked, eyes sparkling.

"She misses you," I smiled gently, "She wants to see you sometime."

Shaunee lowered her eyes, "W-well. I miss her too," She stammered, twisting her shoulders from side to side so that her arms swung childishly by her sides.

"What a lesbian."

She ignored me, giggling, "Can I do your mowcock?"

"You mean mowhawk?"

She shrugged, "Yeah whatever. Can I?"

I nodded and let her pull me into the men's dressing room, where we ran into Neil, another regular Devil.

His pitch black hair was already gelled in a short mowhawk, "Hey, Matt," He grinned, "What do you think of my 'mowcock'?" He laughed, eying Shaunee warily who was now glowering at him.

"Sexy," I flashed him a smile and climbed into the chair, watching him through the mirror.

"Shaunee, say mowhawk," Neil pleaded.

"Get the fuck out of here, Neil!" She heaved a hair brush at Neil, who ducked and sprinted, screaming, out of the dressing room.

"SHAUNEE," I heard Mick scream from somewhere down the hall, "STOP HARRASSING MY DANCERS."

Shaunee let out an exasperated little cry and starting brushing my hair.

* * *

><p><strong>Mello's POV<strong>

I don't know why, but I went back to the downtown area. I visited that Orchid and 9th corner again, and even drove around in the nearby area. I was searching for something but I didn't know what.

No. I knew what. I knew exactly what I was looking for. And I was a fool if I was going to sit here and lie to myself.

I was searching for Matt. I wanted to relive that night. I needed to.

One hit and I was already addicted. And already I would do anything to get another fix.

I pulled the car up next to a small man who was pacing up and down the sidewalk, "Excuse me," I called, watching as the man jumped a foot in the air and gaped at me, eyes dark, burning coals set in a ashen face.

He glanced around wildly and scurried over. His eyes were wide, black and bloodshot. Speaking of addiction...

"Do you know a Matt around here?"

The jittery man bobbed his head yes.

"Red hair? Prostitute?"

He bobbed his head so jerkily that I thought his head would roll off his thin neck.

"Do you think you could tell me where he is?"

The man's voice was small, high, and breathy, "I-I heard," He twitched, "That he was dancing down at Mick's Devils tonight."

"Thanks," I rolled the window up, putting a barrier between me and the twitchy man.

People like this always had a way of horrifying me.

Where did life go wrong for them? When did they fall?

It is a nasty thing, addiction is... You can get clean, but you always managed to reluctantly wiggle yourself back in its greedy clutches.

I gazed sadly out my tinted window at the man, who shambled around aimlessly on the sidewalk like some mindless zombie. I should have wanted to help him. But I guess addictions make you selfish, because I wanted nothing more than to satisfy my own thirst for what ever it is that made me so parched.

I pulled off the curb, and without even so much as a backward glance towards the zombie-man, I drove to Mick's Devils.

I climbed out of the car and freaking half-skipped across the small parking lot of Mick's Devils. I stopped at the door, quickly composed myself, and strutted in like a boss.

I skirted around the tables and slid into the booth off to the far left of the club. My eyes scanned the stage for Matt, but he wasn't up there. I searched the crowd of people clustered at the foot of the stage, but he wasn't around there either.

The women, and I think that was a guy that just passed me, were all wearing mohawks. Some of the women got all nifty with their hair and had their curls pinned up into a mohawk. Mick was a genius as always. His dancers looked fucking hot.

I was picking at the drink coaster with a hot devil lady on the front when a voice sounded from beside me, "Hi!"

I glanced up and appraised the small black woman sporting a sky-high mohawk before me, "Hey."

She giggled, "I'm Shaunee," She pinched what little material clung to her body and curtsied, "Want a dance?"

I seriously considered it, but decided I'd rather have a dance from Matt, "Is Matt here tonight?"

Shaunee threw back her head and laughed, "You're just adorable! I'll go get him," She scurried off.

A minute or so passed before Matt, also in a mohawk, appeared next to me, face pleasantly blank, Shaunee hovered behind him, giggling like an awestruck schoolgirl, "Hey, Mello. What can I do for you?" He turned to Shaunee and flicked his hands at her, shooing her off. She clapped her hands together and folded them sweetly before running away.

Now that she was gone Matt's blank mask turned furious, "What."

My lower lip pushed out, why must everyone hate me? "What did I do?"

His hands slammed on the table and he brought his face close to mine, "I know what you are."

Images of that shitty teenage vampire movie flashed in my mind, I grinned, if he liked role-play, "Say it," I was grinning now, "Out loud."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. With his hair pulled up and away from his face like that, you got to enjoy what a nice little bone structure he had going on. His eyes weren't shadowed by his bangs and were an even brighter shade of emerald, and the sharp curve of his jawline was more visible, "You're a fucking pig," He hissed in my face.

I jerked back, very sure that surprise was draining my face of all color, "W-What? How did you-?"

"You arrested my friend Leanne," He snarled, "She told me all about you. You made her suck your cock right before you arrested her. I bet you were going to arrest me right after you fucked me, huh? I bet you didn't think I'd get away. So now you fucking stalked me all the way here so you could finish the job."

I was silent. Fucking stunned. I did _not_ know what to say, so I just sat there staring at him.

He clicked his teeth together, taking a bite out of air. He leaned closer, I could feel his warm breath tickling my face, "And you think I'm going to just let you take me away, dick? Fuck. That. I can kick your fucking ass."

"Hold on just a second, Matt," I snapped, "Let's just get some things straight. First of all, if I really wanted to arrest you that night, I would have and could have. I wouldn't have just let my guard down like that and fallen asleep on you. Secondly, I didn't stalk you," Okay, small lie, but whatever, "I just came in here and happened to find you. And third," I laughed, "What makes you think you can fight _me_?"

His nostrils flared, I guess it was a common trait amongst whores and pimps, he shoved his face closer into mine, jamming a finger into my chest, he wanted violence, "Don't underestimate me, punk. I'd fuck you up."

I was getting a little pissed off now, nobody just gets in my face, "Says the guy who takes it up the ass like a bitch," I hissed, smirking back into his face.

His fist appeared out of no where and collided into my jaw, my head snapped back and_ thunked_ dully against the booth. Pain. Ouch. He just punched me in face! He. Just. Punched. Me. In. The. Face. Out of pure reflex I jumped up and punched him back. He staggered slightly before lunging at me.

We collapsed in the booth with him on top, his flying fists nailing me repeatedly in the gut. My leg found a free space between us and I kicked him off me. He landed on the carpeted floor and I was on top of him instantly pinning his flailing arms with my legs.

"Matt!" I cried in exasperation, "Can't you just listen to me?" I most certainly did _not_ come here for this.

"You started it!" He huffed, writhing beneath me, his arm popped out from under my leg and his hand latched onto my throat, squeezing, cutting off all air flow.

I gasped for air, but was granted none. I clawed at his hand but he held firm, I found myself being rolled onto my back, Matt's angry face hovered above me. Black spots exploded in my vision and my mouth opened and closed helplessly, like a fish out of water trying to draw a much needed breath.

He removed his hand, and oxygen rushed into my aching lungs. I inhaled as much air as I could. Savoring the taste and feel of air. But this joy was ephemeral, because Matt delivered a hard, final blow to the stomach, knocking the remaining wind out of me.

I rolled over onto all fours and threw up the contents of my stomach. Matt's triumphant laughter bubbled in my ears. It was not at all soothing.

* * *

><p><strong>Matt's POV<strong>

"A bitch, huh? Look who's throwing up after a measly little punch to the stomach!" I cooed in Mello's ear, fighting a disturbing urge to lick it.

"MATT," Screamed Mick, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU. SIR! SIR!" He rushed over, "Oh! Mello? Mello, boy, are you alright?"

"How do you know Mello?" I asked, staring at Mick in a new light.

"Never mind that. What the fuck happened?"

"He was messing with me."

"Mello doesn't fuck with people for no reason," Mick said sternly, "What happened?"

Mello sat up and glared at me, "I just wanted a dance. And your dancer here just punched me in the face."

"Mello's a pig!" I pointed at childishly him, feeling utterly stupid at my juvenile gesture.

Mick scratched at the salt and pepper stubble on his chin, "I know," He said simply.

"But you hate pigs!" I cried.

"Mello is a cop worth knowing," He said, patting Mello tenderly on the knee, before climbing to his feet with a heavy groan, he turned to Mello, "And keep in mind, Mello, Matt is not just a whore," He turned and walked off.

Mick's approval of Mello suddenly made me feel apologetic towards the blonde, "Hey, man, listen," I began before being cut off by Mello raising his hand.

"Don't apologize," He rose, his cat-like grace was back in his movements, he offered me a hand, "I shouldn't have underestimated you."

I grinned, "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well, you gave me quite a fight back there. That... and I trust Mick's opinion," His voice was filled with such respect for the man, I had to wonder...

"How do you guys-?"

"Want a drink?" He interrupted, a flirtatious grin spreading across his lips.

I sighed, "I guess so."

We both sat down at the booth we were previously wrestling in and ordered drinks. While I was sipping on my drink, Mello was staring hard at me. His blue eyes absorbing every little detail, every little movement I made. It was creepy and flattering all at the same time.

"Why," My voice came out rough, Mello smiled, I cleared my throat, "Why didn't you arrest me that night?"

Mello shrugged, his little finger tracing mindless designs in the condensation, his eyes still locked onto mine, "I didn't think you'd last a night in jail."

I leaned back in the booth and folded my arms across my chest, "That's not the real reason, is it?"

"I was going to arrest you," He finally admitted, his eyes tore from mine and fixed themselves on his drink, "But I completely forgot about it. When I woke up... I realized I didn't arrest you. And I realized I didn't care."

I tapped the table with my hand, trying to get his eyes back on me, it worked, "Thank you," I said, my voice dripping with sincerity.

He leaned forward, glancing around as if about to say something he didn't want anyone to hear, "I still want a dance."

I was more than happy to oblige. I crawled around the booth and climbed into his lap, straddling him. Mello gripped my hips and started laughing. I shot him a quizzical look.

"Just ten minutes ago you were punching me in the face."

Well, it was pretty funny.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay. I don't know what I was thinking. The fight just kind of happened and I didn't have the heart to delete it and start all over. At least Mello has respect for Matt now and their relationship can start moving from lust to love soon. RIGHT! D; Bleeeeeh<br>**

**Review. It makes me happy!  
><strong>


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